


Remnants

by Paragosm



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Dreams, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 12:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20389423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paragosm/pseuds/Paragosm
Summary: A short drabble about Maglor





	Remnants

As he woke up, he chased after the remnants of his memory. He tried to grab the fragments and keep them close, but failed. He could not remember, he never could. At night he would relive his memories, the happy, the gory, the violent, the heartbreaking. On waking, he could not. Names of those lost and loved danced on the tip of his tongue, forever tantalizing out of reach. He walked along the water, living only for when he slept. A cycle of pain put on hold for a night, and another, and another, until he used sleep as his only refuge. He still felt guilty, but remembered not why. He felt like he should punish himself, for what he did not remember, but he did it anyway, the reopened wounds burning like agonizing dragon fire as he dragged them through the salty water. He had small things with him, tiny pieces of things he knew were important to him once but now where nothing but more mysteries, except when he dreamt, and then it all became clear again until his next waking. The necklace around his neck was one such trinket, a locket, with strands of hair inside of it, all labeled with names, names he could never connect to faces, to shattered memory. He knew that he had held many close to him, but never could remember anything beyond he had hurt them all horribly. He was in pain, he did not remember, and yet he did when he slipped off and remembered his family, his friends, hazy memories surfacing vividly. 

One last night, he stared out at the open sea, where he knew the tide may reach. He did not want to wake up, this time. He did not want to forget, never catch the laughing faces in his dream, never pin their names to their faces, never know what happened. And so, he laid down on the sand and slept, dreaming, with hopes to remain for eternity.


End file.
